


Collision coda 7.5

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Drama, During Canon, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:48:43
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8766661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam and Dean have a nice little chat with drinking at the forefront. Sam pulls a Dr. Phil crossed with Whoopiee Goldberg! on Dean...coda 7.5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

The miles peeled slowly by for them as silence seemed to be riding in the front seat with them. Dean and Sam were tearing out from their most recent hunt which clashed them between a husband and wife team of Romanian witches. 

 

It was to quote Dean's way of thinking a new spin on “War of the Roses.” Dean did manage to get the couple talked down and they did have a fish camp experience in the monster that got away. What blew the whole thing out of the water for Sam was the rate that Dean's drinking was exponentially cranking up.

 

Normally they would and could be found with a beer bottle close at hand, but lately Dean's guilt was driving him to harder stuff with more frequency. As a result they'd had a few clashes over the issue. Like now...

 

“Look, ok, I won't bother you about the whole 'whatever is eating at you' schtick for right now. Though I know something is and I know you're trying to macho your way through it...”

 

“Sam, will you PLEASE shut the fuck up already!?” Dean retorted to Sam's attempt.

 

“That bothers me, but what's bothering me more is this drinking thing. First it's not doing your liver a whole hell of a lot of good, and Dean are you listening or ignoring me?” Sam asked noting Dean humming to himself.

 

“You said something?” Dean piped back. Then he whipped out his hip flask and took a long swallow as he drove. 

 

“Okay bright boy that's it pull over.” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Pull over now!” Sam ordered harsher.

 

“NO!” Dean said harsher as well.

 

“You got a choice you can pull it over now or I call Bobby and put him on speakerphone.”

 

“You play dirty.”

 

“You're drinking yourself into a stupor.” Sam said concerned.

 

“I know my limit.” Dean argued then winced as he remembered from his childhood hearing his father say the same thing.

 

Dean eased the Impala over to the shoulder of the highway and looked at Sam. If he took a moment he could see what this was doing to himself but he was too wrapped up in hiding secrets. He was spending too much time, wrapped up in his own depression. He was a step away from being an alcoholic, and just past suicidal. All of this concerned Sam and his concern was sliding off Dean like water off a duck's ass. 

 

“Ok Francis! You have my full attention for five minutes.” Dean said sarcastically.

 

“You won't try to shut me down?” Sam asked.

 

“Clock's running.” Dean said shortly.

 

“I'm scared Dean, not of monsters, or witches or whatever, I'm starting to become scared of you. You were all wrapped up concerned about me when I was hooked on demon blood, but you're so hypocritical when it comes to me being concerned about how you're hooked through the ball sack on booze.” Sam took a breath, Dean was staring at him complacently. “Two things, one you stink, you smell like booze on the job, that's not good and not healthy for you. You can shower as much as you want, use as much deodorant as you want, but you physically and psychically stink. And two, you've always treated me as the kid, even when we had it out and you agreed to treat me as an equal partner, you haven't and won't. So this is what we are going to do.” He took another deep breath. 

 

“What are we going to do Sam?” Dean asked plainly.

 

“We're going to switch out, I'm driving, you're shotgun, don't argue, you're driving drunk.” Sam stated.

 

“I'm not drunk.” Dean deadpanned.

 

“And I'm Heddy Lamar!” Sam returned. “I live with you bro, I see how much you've been putting away. You've pretty much always got a buzz on now.”

 

Dean looked at his watch and held up a finger, “You have thirty seconds.”

 

“You're going to get us killed or you in jail. I'm begging ya man, if you gotta drink then let's switch places.”

 

Dean looked ahead over the steering wheel, which he was gripping tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. Finally he threw his hands in the air and nodded. “Okay great, we change places and you drive for a while, but you don't get to Dr. Phil me up. Agreed?” 

 

Sam sighed it was less than he hoped for but he had to take it. “Okay.” Sam got out of the car and started to walk around when Dean slammed the transmission into gear and took off. Sam stood there with a fixed smile. “Okay smartass, you want to play this the hard way.” He started walking and took out his cell phone. 

 

“Bobby!?” 

 

“Sam, what's up, I thought you were on your way here.” Bobby asked.

 

“We are, just Dean's suddenly 5 years old again.” Sam said as he walked. 

 

“Aw shit, what's that idgit gone and done now?” Bobby asked tiredly.

 

“He's drinking like a fish.” Sam started.

 

“That's not unusual.” Bobby commented.

 

“A fifth and a half on a two day hunt?” Sam asked.

 

“That's unusual.” 

 

There was a pregnant pause as Bobby seemed to be considering. Then finally the rough voice came back on line. “What 'cha wanna do about this?” 

 

“Well, I've got a couple of things in mind.” Sam started.

 

Five miles up the road Dean was sitting on the shoulder again, grinning to himself. Sure Sam would be pissed, but Dean knew he was okay, well he was at least anesthetized to the point that he didn't care too much. Now if he could just get rid of the nightmares he'd be set. 

 

The nightmares were getting to him more and more and there was nothing he could do to escape them this last case with the Starks proved that. Drinking seemed to help a little. But it was dulling his edge as a hunter and that kind of pissed him off.

 

He looked in the rear view and could see the tiny speck approaching which had to be Sam. He sat back and waited turning up the radio a little more and taking a pull off his flask. Then seeing that it was nearly empty. He got out of the car and popped the trunk to take out his bottle he had stashed back there and filled the flask back up. “I'm not an alcoholic.” He argued to himself.

 

The speck was getting closer now and appeared to be loping along. “Oh great here comes Lance Armstrong.” Dean groused then got back into the car, this time in the shotgun seat. If nothing else maybe he could catch a few winks of sleep while Sam drove. And maybe he'd be able to sleep without seeing the Amy's eyes as he plunged the knife into her heart. Worse, turning to find her son standing in the doorway of the motel. 

 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to shut out the memories. He was mildly surprised when he heard the car door open and felt Sam sitting into the driver's seat.

 

“Nice run?” Dean asked.

 

“Dick.” Sam said cranking up the car and starting out. Dean looked over at his and suddenly got a chill at the secretive little smile that seemed to be playing at Sam's lips and eyes. 

 

“I'm so fucked.” Dean snorted.

 

“You have no idea.” Sam retorted.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Ok folks two things, yeah I know Bobby's place is cinders and yes I have indicated this is an AU story. It's even more twisted that that, just hang in there with me. Also I know that the means that Sam and Bobby go to with Dean are extreme, but hey, when I was drinking about as much as Dean was at one time I would have appreciated someone doing that to me. ;^) Like I said, hang in there, read and please leave a review so I know how this is going!  
Thanks  
Daibhi  
_______________________________  


* * *

They were well into the first leg of the trip when Dean, who'd been taking regular pulls on his flask snorted, just a simple snort, but it was enough to get Sam's attention. He looked over at his brother who was not totally blitzed out drunk, but was well on his way to it. 

 

“Pull over.” Dean ordered, his words slurred.

 

“What about pretty boy in the back seat?” Sam asked.

 

“Gotta take a piss pull over.” Dean slurred. The passed his flask to Sam, “Fill that up again for me would ya?”

 

“Sure.” Sam said nervously as they did pull over. Sam walked back to the trunk and opened up to see the bottle of Wild Turkey that was rolling around. Dean would kill him for what he was thinking but the man had to know what he was doing to himself.

 

They got back in the car and Sam started on the rest of that leg of their journey. He smiled grimly that at least by the time they got to Bobby's, at this rate anyway, Dean would be nearly unconscious. 

 

Sam looked over at Dean who was staring out the passenger's window with a lost expression on his face.

 

“Dean, I wish...” Sam started but Dean held up his hand to stop him. Sam sighed deeply. “Tell me this at least, does all of this have to do with what you did in Hell?” 

 

“Huh?” Dean started. “No, no, nothin' like that, hell at least that is a faded memory now, well, pretty much faded.”

 

“Then what? Why won't you let me in?” Sam asked.

 

“Sammy, just drive.” Dean took a deep breath and blew it out suddenly. “Damn what a buzz.” He mumbled.

 

“Yeah, you're so buzzed that it's going to be up to me and Bobby to take care of sweetcakes in the back.” 

 

“About that.” Dean started. “Just what the hell does Bobby thing we can do with that thing?”

 

“Don't know, why don't you call him and find out?” Sam said matter-of-factly. 

 

“Smartass.” Dean grumbled. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and flipping it open starred at the numbers owlishly for a moment then punched the speed dial for Bobby.

 

“What?” Bobby answered.

 

“Yeah, good evening to you to.” Dean said sourly.

 

“Oh, it's the sponge calling.” Bobby said sarcastically.

 

“Now don't you go starting!” Dean griped.

 

“Me starting, I'm not even warmed up good yet. What's up?” He asked.

 

“How do you plan on holding this thing?” Dean asked.

 

“I'm working on that okay, one thing at a time. Now if you'll excuse me I've got some more welding to get done.”

 

“Welding?” Dean asked then shook his head, “Never mind, we'll find out when we get there.” 

 

“How far out are you?” He asked. 

 

“Last I looked about 12 hours driving.” 

 

“Make it 9 if you can.” Bobby said. 

 

“Will do.” Dean said hanging up. Then looking at Sam. “He's got something going, but he won't say what, and he says to lay on the gas.”

 

“I doing the speed limit plus change. He knows this stretch of highway is mined with speed traps.” Sam griped.

 

Still Sam pushed another 10 miles and hour out of the car and roared through the night. Meanwhile at Bobby's he had two projects in place both a necessity. Though he wished that he could just as well chuck the second project. For the first he was busy laying on some heavy welding to the bed that was in the middle of the panic room floor. The bed was more an secured to the floor it was part of the floor. 

 

He then carefully went around the perimeter of the room welding shut every possible place there could be a hole out. Then with white oil based paint with a few ingredients of his own, he painted a huge devils trap on the floor, the most complicated and difficult trap he could find. Finally he brought in mounds of chain all spell charmed. He had no idea what he was dealing with but he was damn sure going to be sure that it wouldn't be going anywhere.

 

The he started to work on the second project. This one almost heart breaking in it's need, but he knew there was no other way to take care of the problem. 

 

Dean was drunk, completely passed out drunk when Sam pulled into the lot nine hours later on the dot. He got out of the car as Bobby came out of the back door with a scowl meant for thunder. 

 

“Boy I was just kidding about getting here in nine.” He started.

 

“Dean's out. And likely to be for a while the last refill we did on his flask I slipped a roofy into. He can kill me later, it's not like I haven't died before.” Sam said exhausted, his eyes were bloodshot with bags from hell under them. He and Bobby reached into the backseat and took the bound, still unconscious man out. They hauled him to the basement first, securing him to the bed with the chain. Then they went back out to the car and got Dean who was still passed out. They got him upstairs and into their bedroom, much more spartan now but still their bedroom. They got Dean secured then went back downstairs for a moment. Sam sat across from Bobby and honestly looked like somebody went and shot his puppy. 

 

“Sam this ain't gonna be easy.”

 

“Nothing worth anything ever is.” Sam replied tiredly. 

 

“Dean's gonna...” Bobby started.

 

“Dean's gonna do a lot of things. Starting with mixing it up with me probably. We'll keep down the ruckus as much as possible.” Sam said looking at Bobby. “Now I think I want to go to bed as well.” He said though it was 10:30 in the morning.

 

“You need to kid. You look like homemade hammered shit.” Bobby said sarcastically.

 

“I feel like it.” Sam said as he chuckled, then started laughing, and then the laughter turned to tears. He sat there and leaned his head into his hands and sobbed for several minutes. Bobby let him, he had to get the poison out of his system some way. Bobby was on the couch with him now an arm slung over his shoulders being a steadying presence for him as he worked this out of himself.

 

About ten minutes later the sobs trickled off to barking coughs and at last to a sniffle. He looked at Bobby, smiled lopsidedly and got up off the couch and made his way up stairs. Just outside the bedroom he stripped down to his boxers. Then he went into the room with Dean still out of it. Sam lay down on the other bed and took one look at Dean's cherubic face, at least for this moment and nearly started crying all over again. He pulled up the covers and rolled over and passed out himself. It was midnight when he woke, Dean was awake, rolled to face the wall, but conscious. 

 

Sam sat up after a moment and stretched. 

 

“You slipped me something yesterday didn't you?” Dean said accusatorily. 

 

“Yep, a roofie.” Sam admitted. “You needed some serious nap time and you weren't getting it with the bits and snatches you've been catching.”

 

“What do you know about that?” Dean asked deadpanned as he slowly rolled over and looked at Sam.

 

“I've been your roomie for what 20 years or more. I know your sleeping habits. I also have a habit of waking up when you do, at least from a nightmare, always have had that habit. And you've been losing a lot of sleep, intaking a WHOLE shitload of alcohol, and not eating right, even for you.”

 

“So that explains this?” Dean said still with a deadpanned expression as he sat up in bed the links of chain falling away from the ankle shackles.

 

“I'm not doing anything to you, you haven't done to me in the past.” Sam said stoically.

 

“What are you on about now?” Dean griped ignoring his bonds for a minute. 

 

“Remember when you and Bobby put me in the panic room those times?” Sam said shamed.

 

“This is my panic room.” Dean said indicating the bedroom with two twin beds and bathroom. 

 

“Oh good both of the sleeping beauties are awake.” Bobby said sarcastically as he entered. 

 

“So how much chain have I got?” Dean asked. 

 

Bobby sat down on the other bed next to Sam. “Enough to see you can get into the bathroom and tub. But not enough to let you off this floor. Oh and let me go ahead and tell you now, the lag bolts I used to set the grommet in place for the chain, their eight inches, sunk into a floor joist and fixed in place with wood glue. Not terribly professional I know but with the time I had to work with, hey.” 

 

“So I'm you're prisoner for … how long?” 

 

“Until you've dried out.” Sam said quietly. 

 

“You bastard.” Dean said quietly.

 

“Probably, everybody says we don't look like brothers.” Sam sniped back.

 

“You know that wasn't what I meant.” Dean said his anger coming to a slow boil.

 

“Whatever, I'm tired of seeing you killing yourself by inches and broiling in whatever hell you made for yourself. You'll be on the chain no more or less than a week. We'll have meals together, but what you're wearing is what you'll wear.” Sam said hard.

 

“This is bullshit!” Dean barked.

 

“Probably. I don't know if it'll do any good or not. But one things for sure. You're going to become intimate with these four walls.”

 

“I at least want a hair of the dog. I deserve that after you shot me with a fucking roofie!” Dean sniped angrily.

 

“Sorry, not gonna happen man. You're in this for the long haul. You're going to dry out, I'll be there to help you.”

 

“Forget that.” Dean said.

 

“Whatever, I'm tired Dean, ever since that job we had in Dearborn, you've been fucked up. I don't know what happened there. I guess you letting Amy go was too much for your conscience.” Sam said tiredly. “Now if you'll excuse me I'll go get us breakfast. Don't worry, you'll have all the grease you can stomach.”

 

“I need a drink.” Dean said harshly.

 

“Not gonna happen Dean, you may as well get that through that thick skull of yours right now.” Bobby said. Dean threw himself at Bobby who coldcocked him with one fist. Sitting down Dean rubbed his jaw. 

 

“Goddamnit but for an old fart you can hit.” 

 

“Yea I can, I can do a lot of things you'd not imagine. But one thing I'm not going to do is sit by and watch someone I love like my own flesh and blood try to turn themselves into me. So sit down and shut it.” With that, Bobby stomped out of the room. 

 

As his footsteps were heard echoing down the hall and then the stairs. Dean turned his attention back on Sam. “You're next, you may as well know it.” 

 

Sam shrugged bonelessly and looked tiredly at Dean. “I've been watching you drink yourself into oblivion for years, but this last month you're stepping up the pace like you're looking for a way out. I'm not letting you check out on me that easily.”

 

“What! Sam I'm hung over and you're not making any sense. I haven't been drinking any more than normal.”

 

“Really!” Sam said finally showing a spark of life. He stepped out into the hall way and brought in a trash back and sat it on the floor then he lined up 6 pints and 10 fifths, all empty. “I can guarantee that if I were to pull DNA off those bottles it would match back to you. I've been collecting those when you weren't looking. That's a month's worth. You usually don't drink that much in three months sometimes four.” Sam looked at him hard now. “You're drying out, maybe not for the long haul, probably not, but you're going to give your liver a break.” 

 

“Don't you think I could just put it down?” Dean blurted. Sam walked over and pulled out the last bottle that was still about a quarter full. 

 

“Oh come to papa!” Dean said happily reaching. 

 

“No. Oh and this is going downstairs with me. I'll be back in a few minutes with breakfast.” 

 

“This won't hold me, you know that?” Dean said pointing to the ankle shackles. 

 

“There's a chance you could escape, a rough chance, but we got one of the leviathan in the basement panic room. And you'll not want to get out of the house without solving that mystery.” Sam said walking towards the door. He was out of the room for maybe ten seconds when Dean started to ransack the room for something to use to pick the locks on the cuffs. Bobby had stripped the room of anything that could be used or could be modified to be used as a pick. Then he nodded and thought, 'okay they won this round, but they wouldn't win the fight.' 

 

In the kitchen Sam took a long moment and then started to get breakfast for him and Dean. Then wearily he started to pick up the tray. Bobby came into the kitchen from outside and stepped over to the coffeemaker. He looked at Sam.

 

“Keep thinking to yourself what we did to you.” Bobby said hard. 

 

“I do and I can imagine how Dean must've felt when he was going through the bouts with me.” 

 

Bobby reached into the cabinet and looked through a myriad of pill bottles finally pulling out one and shaking three capsules into this palm. He looked at Sam. “Take these. They're Prozac, it'll help keep this from overwhelming you.” 

 

“How can you be so...calm.” Sam asked.

 

Bobby looked towards the living room a moment and then shrugged. “Probably because I went through the same thing myself. I know what's going to happen. He'll need those chains for most of the ride, he'll need lots of liquids, and well I hope you're good bunkmates.”

 

“Why's that?” Sam asked blushing slightly. 

 

“You may have to hold him through the worst of this. Be prepared for the worst to come out cause it will.”

 

“I've been prepared for that.” Sam said resolutely.

 

“No son, you're not...not yet. The worst ass chewing I've ever given you two will be nothing compared to what he'll come up with.” Bobby said confidently. “Now go on, take the tray up.” 

 

Dean had been over the room twice by the time Sam had returned there was aboslutely nothing he could use. Bobby had taken out everything that he could've MacGyvered into a lockpick. He was back on the bed and looking very sullen when Sam came back in with the tray. He set them up and they were soon eating with Dean making a half assed attempt at eating.

 

“Dean please don't make this any more hell for me than what it's gonna be.” Sam begged.

 

“Uh hello, last time I looked I was the one in shackles, give me a reason to make it easy on ya?” 

 

“I could say that I'm doing this because I love you or because I'm concerned about what you're doing to your body but basically I'm pissed off.”

 

“Pissed? You look like somebody stomped on your cat.” Dean sniped.

 

“I'm pissed off that as good a hunter as you are would do something like this to fuck up your sense of direction. You're better than this Dean, I know you are.” 

 

“You don't know much then.” Dean muttered as he ate some of his scrambled eggs. 

 

Sam sighed and went back to eating and watching Dean with surreptitious glances. They ate in relative silence. Finishing, Sam gathered together all the dishes and flatware. He then went downstairs to the kitchen. 

 

“Is our thing still out of it?” 

 

Bobby nodded, “Was, the last time I looked. What about your thing?” 

 

“Surly, trying to make me feel guilty, which is working, just don't tell him that.” 

 

“Don't give in.” Bobby said, then repeated himself, “Don't give in.” 

 

Sam nodded wearily and trudged towards the basement door. He walked down and peeped through the slot in the door. The leviathan was still out of it or appeared to be so. He nodded and then turned from the door to walk back upstairs when he heard a moan. He rushed back to the door and saw that the creature seemed to be stirring then struggling, It looked over and saw Sam peeping. 

 

“You can't hold me forever, and that's just how long I'll live.” It said maliciously. 

 

“You'll live as long as you are of use to us. Then we'll kill you.” Sam said through the door. “You hungry...too bad, gotta go to the pot, sorry you're not getting out of the chains. I've stomached a lot during my years, there's nothing you can do that can affect me at this point.”

 

“Yes there is.” Slowly a black viscous liquid ran from his eyes, nose, and ears. It moved sinuously like a snake until it made its way down the leg of the bed. The instant it came in contact with the floor it recoiled and returned to the host body. Sam smiled slightly. If it could be repelled, it could be destroyed. Sam turned and left the ranting demonic form on the bed to head up to a form which would shortly become, well, not demonic but less desirable for the moment.

 

Upstairs he found Dean lying on his back on the bed staring at ceiling. He was sweating profusely. Sam walked into the bathroom and came back out with a cool washcloth and made to swipe Dean's face. 

 

“Give me. There are still some things I can do for myself.” He'd no sooner go the sweat wiped away until new sweat popped up. So it began. 

 

The first three days were for Dean and Sam, Hell all over again. Dean was having delirium tremors. As he progressed Sam did more and more for Dean. And more and more to the thing downstairs. Bobby was bent on studying everything he could find when it seemed like a break, but in fact was just the death of the host body that the leviathan was animating. The black liquid seeped from the pores of the host and pooled on the bed and was trapped there. Unable to touch the trap.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and Bobby shared a look. “Ok now we got a body to dump, only no way to get to the body.” Sam started.

 

“Don't give up too quick, I've trick or two up my sleeve.” Bobby said and rummaged around on his shelves in the basement until he gave an delighted 'ah-ha'. He came walking back over with a hospital vaccum pump. “Don't ask, it was a job that I did a year or so ago. This was part of what I had to have. Come on.” They cautiously entered the room carefully stepping around the traps. Bobby finally got to an electrical outlet and plugged the pump in then passed the small unit to Sam. Turning the unit on he tossed the collection hose onto the bed into the middle of the black ooze. It was as if he were sucking up mercury. It wasn't a matter of getting one blob, the whole of the liquid was extracted. 

 

He motioned to Sam to set the pump down on the trap. The liquid seem to roil for a moment then lay silent. Bobby pulled out his cell phone.

 

“Curtis, yeah hi Bobby Singer here. Got a job for you, a shake and bake.” There was a pause. “Don't worry this is one you'll be glad to do, the only trick is that this corpse has to be treated as a biohazard. You know the drill so I'll leave you to it.” Another pause. “Just get yer meat wagon over here ASAP!” Bobby barked and hung up. He looked at Sam, “Mortician friend of mine who has a crematory on site, and he can take and nuke the body for us.”

 

“That's great really, but what are we going to do with that!?” Sam pointed to the vacuum pumps collection jar. Bobby went over to his desk in the panic room and pulled open a drawer with a red cross on it. He yanked out a couple of hemostats and clamped both hoses into and out of jar shut. 

 

“What you're going to do with that is let me have it.” They both spun to the new voice, melodious in tone surprising them both. Sam relaxed but Bobby was on his guard.

 

“It's okay Bobby, he's one of the good guys. This is Joshua, Joshua, Bobby.” 

 

God's gardener stood complacently in the doorway and smiled at then benignly. 

 

“I'm place an awful lot of trust in someone I barely know from Adam's cat.” Bobby griped.

 

“He's an angel, Bobby.” Sam started.

 

“So...seems our last dealings with an angel started this whole fucking mess.” Bobby challenged.

 

Joshua looked painfully sad for a long moment. “What Castiel did was unconscionable and if God has His way about it, and He usually does, he'll take care of the matter.”

 

“So what can you do with this?” Bobby said pointing to the unit. 

 

“First of all, these sigils you have in place forbid me to enter unless I'm personally invited.” Joshua started.

 

Bobby looked around a moment and then looked at Sam who's face was solemn. 

 

“Come on in.” Bobby said quietly. Joshua smiled warmly and stepped into the room. 

 

“You did a right good job with this, much better than your last attempt I'm told. Well let's be rid of this thing.” Joshua pulled a bag from his pocket and drew a sigil on the wall of the chamber in mud. Then he stood back. “Iagnua Magna Purgatorii Clausa Est Ob Nos Lumine Eius Ab Oculis Nostris Retento. Sed Nunc Stamus Ad Limen Huius Ianuae Magnae Et Demisse Fideliter Perhonorifice Paramus Aperire Eam. Creaturae Terrificae Quarum Ungulae Et Dentes Nunquam Tetigerunt Carnem Humanam Aperit Fauces Eius Ad Mundum Nostrum Nunc Ianua Magna Aperta Tandem!” The room shook and sudden the sigil vanished as a hole appeared in the wall of the room, beyond was darkness and a tiny bit of sickly yellow light. Joshua turned and picked up the pump and tossed it into the hole. Then he released his hold on it and the wall closed back up perfectly. “Now I could do with a cup of strong, black coffee if you don't mind.” 

 

“Only way I make it.” Bobby said non-plussed. 

 

Joshua turned to the corpse on the bed and passed his hand over it. They watched in some horror and amazement as the body crumbled to dust.

 

“You can clean that up later but the danger at least with this one is past and done.”

 

“Bobby one question,” Sam said as if waking from a dream. “Uh how is it we are even here?” 

 

“What are you talking about boy?” Bobby asked as they exited the basement. 

 

“Bobby, your house, a month ago it was a smoking heap.” Sam said as if waking from a dream.

 

They were walking up the stairs when Joshua froze and grabbed Sam by the head for a moment peering deep into his eyes. Finally he released him shaking his head wearily. “Come on boy, we got some talking to do. And hot coffee is going to be the least of your troubles.”

 

 

In the kitchen they sat around the worn table while the Mr. Coffee gurgled and poured some dark liquid into the carafe. They sat around the table. Joshua looked at Sam sadly then looked at Bobby.

 

“Some of that whiskey you keep in here will help him and you.” Joshua noted.

 

They were sitting around the table now with cups of hot, black coffee and glasses with at least three fingers of neat whiskey in each. Joshua looked sadly again at Sam and nodded. “I guess you need to be told. Otherwise the incongruity of it will drive you crazy.” He sighed and took a deep pull on his coffee. Then a sip of whiskey. “Sam life is made up of multiple futures but one past. You have a myriad of venues you can take in life, millions of choices you can make and they will all affect your future as well as your past. When Castiel broke down that wall in you he set off a chain of events that led to him becoming a false prophet and being punished by God for his actions. But worse, you were in the middle of an unconscious period when the things the wall held at bay were attacking you. You jumped lines of time and space. You came through this with the sheer power of your mind attacking you. Your soul jumped your body in the when where this house was burned down to a now where the house is still intact but the leviathan are abroad. Sadly along with this your brother has become a raving alcoholic. And needs you, but you don't need to know what drove him over the edge yet. That's his story to tell and he'll tell it when he's good and ready. Just don't push him. And Sam, forgiveness works both ways.” 

The angel tipped back the rest of his whiskey and took another long pull at the coffee. “Thank you for your hospitality, perhaps we can do something to help you. At least I will work on ways to help Sam and Dean.”

 

“Whatever you can do to help them, I'm all for!” Bobby told him flatly.

 

“Good, because things are going to start getting dicey. Can I get you back to your other reality Sam? Well, answer is, I don't know, I've never had to deal with something like this and the outcome could be devastating. Time and Space are fluid but can be messed up real quick.” Joshua said rising. “I'll be in touch.” There was a whispering of wings and he was gone. 

 

Sam and Bobby traded a look. “Ok, you want to clue me in on this?” Bobby asked flatly.

 

So Sam sitting there told him in detail of their fight with the leviathan on the property after finding the house cinders. He told Bobby about how they crushed the leviathan. He told of the couple of hunts they had since then and the times he spaced out. Then he got on telling Bobby about Dean's obsession with the bottle. This hurt him the most. He ended up shaking and sipping at his whiskey carefully. He finished the glass and set it down. Then finished his coffee. 

 

“So frankly I don't know Bobby, one minute your house was up in smoke, the next we're driving hell for leather to get here and I don't even know when the realities switched places. Hell for all I know in the other reality I'm probably a comatose vegetable.” Sam said shaking now. 

 

“Listen to me boy.” Bobby said at his sternest. “We'll figure this out a step at a time. We have no clue as to when this happened much less what happened. So just calm down and deal with Dean. We'll work this out together.” He clapped his arms around Sam in a rough hug. Sam returned the hug slowly at first then with vigor. Then he began shaking and trembling. Bobby eased him into the living room and laid him out on the couch. 

 

Sam's tremors eased up slightly as he lay there. Then his eyes snapped open, “I need to check on Dean!” He yelped.

 

“What you need to do is stay right there, I'll go up and check on the sot.” Bobby said gruffly.

 

“Be gentle.” Sam begged and he fell back down on the sofa in a daze. 

 

In the bedroom Dean was laying there able to sit up in bed now and was pleased with having a television set in the room. Bobby looked in and saw that he was morosely flipping through channels. When he saw it was Bobby he sat upright in bed.

 

“What's the matter?” He asked. “Something wrong with Sam. What did that thing down there do!?” Dean shot all at once.

 

“Easy boy you're going to bust your nut at this rate. Sam'll be all right.”

 

Dean jumped up off the bed tripping on the shackles. “Bobby please! It's Sam we're talking about here.” Dean begged. Bobby thought about it a moment and saw the real concern in Dean's eyes, he swore viciously and unlocked the cuffs around his ankles. 

 

They stumbled down the stairs and into the living room where Sam was passed out on the sofa. 

 

“Sam! Sammy!” He said patting at his brother's face. Sam slowly started to rouse and when he saw it was Dean he smiled, then the smile faded to a look of worried concern. 

 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Sam mentioned slowly levering himself to his feet. 

 

“Shut up, come on man, snap out of it.” Dean said crossly.

 

“Snap out of it, that's a good one, I'm here, and I should be there, but I'm not there, I'm here.” Sam babbled. Dean looked at Bobby then looked back at Sam and did the only thing he could think of and that was to slap Sam. The shock startled him enough to get him to some lucidity. Sam looked at Dean a moment more. “You need a shower.”

 

“So do you, and it looks like it's a two for one deal because neither one of us is doing to well right now, but out of the two, I'm doing better.” 

 

“You're doing better! You're a drunk Dean, you're hiding secrets from me, and lieing to me. And I'm here....” 

 

“Now don't go with that again!” Dean barked. “The only secret I'm keeping from you is one I'm having problems dealing with myself and worse you'll just hate me for talking to you about it so lay off and we'll be fine.”

 

“As long as you let me help you with the alcohol.” Sam agreed weakly.

 

“Come on bro, we need a shower.”

 

“Do I need to stand by in case one or both of you pass out in there?” Bobby asked.

 

Sam looked at Dean, they both looked at Bobby. “This is going to be uncomfortable enough with just the two of us in there. So let us get used to that first.” 

 

Carefully Sam rose from the couch and they got back upstairs where Bobby threw open the bedroom window to air it out some. Dean and Sam stripped down and got into the shower not caring that they were invading the others personal space. For the moment that didn't seem to matter to them. They were more concerned for the other's safety and health.

 

They washed each other with Sam being extra careful with Dean. Then they rinsed and got out toweling off. “We haven't done that in years.” Dean joked.

 

“Yeah, I believe I was just a shrimp the last time we showered together.” 

 

“You're still a shrimp.” Dean joked again.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey you saw me naked in there, that's no shrimp I'm carrying.” Sam said proudly as he dressed carefully. And then sat down on his bed. 

 

“No and neither am I.” Dean agreed. “We've both grown up. Sammy you scared the shit out of me, what's happened to you?” 

 

Sam walked Dean through the events up to and including them making the made dash to Bobby's lot after a hunt. Only Sam's recollection included a burned out cinder of a house. Where they fought a leviathan supposedly crushing it with a car. Whereas Dean's included they pulled up and found Bobby going toe to toe with a leviathan in the yard. They worked together dousing it with kerosene and then lighting it. Sam does the only thing he can think of and curl up on his bed in a fetal position.

 

Dean sits down on the bed and attempts to comfort him, but Sam is not wanting comfort as he next words vindicate him. “I know one of these is true, but both are true.” He nearly screams. Dean curls up behind his brother gently carding his hair with his fingers. Sam's breathing slows and he starts to relax. He looks at Dean with a frightened expression. “I've gotta get back some way, but what if there isn't a some way. What if I'm trapped here.”

 

“Come on Sammy, relax, would it be so bad being trapped here. At least here, we have the leviathans number and we know that we can fight them on an equal level.” Dean posited.

 

“You don't understand Dean, I'm supposed to be over there, I can feel the tear and Dean I'm scared. I can help you and me at the same time.” 

 

“We worry about you first, get you straightened out then we'll talk about me. For now, do you think we can put some of the stuff back in the room, I mean, I swear as long as I have to look out for you I'm not going to have time to drink, well nothing stronger than a beer probably.” 

 

Sam shook his head violently. “I'm not the one who needs the taking care of. You're the fighter, you always have been, that's what you're good at. Me, I'm good at fucking up.”

 

Dean leaned back a little and rolled Sam forcefully to face him. “You're my little bro, my Sammy, you're also part of a team, and a damn good team, last I love you too goddamn much to let you go.”

 

“You realize you two yahoos are sounding about as whacked out as I feel.” Bobby said from his perch on the other bed. “Okay, get yer asses in gear, get dressed Dean we got to get this room sorted out, you go near anything stronger than a beer bottle without one of us around and you'll be back up here nursing a busted jaw. Am I getting through to you mister!?” Bobby said in a cold even growl.

 

“Like crystal.” Dean said suddenly looking at Bobby. 

 

“I mean it Dean, you've got some road to make up for according to your brother. You're going to start by getting off that ass of yours. So hop to!” Bobby ordered as Dean and Sam started dressing. 

 

They soon had the room returned to order but Bobby left the shackles bolted to the floor as a reminder. They heard a knock at the door downstairs and Bobby left them to answer the knock. The two brothers eye each other speculatively. Dean grabs Sam by the head and pulls him to him planting a kiss on his forehead and one on his cheek.

 

“What's that for?” Sam asked blushing.

 

“You needed it, now shut up and let's get downstairs we got this leviathan thing to sort out and the trail is getting colder by the minute.” 

 

“You realize we're going to have to call in the big guns to help on this?” Sam noted.

 

“Yeah, that thought occurred to me during my convalescence.” Dean snarked.

 

“We need to get to Bobby's study...we can't call on Joshua at every hands turn but we need someone with power to help us out.”

 

They went downstairs to the sound of Bobby telling his friend Curtis that the matter was already taken care of and that 'no he didn't need to know how.' There was a harumph and door slamming, then the sound of a van pulling away from the house. 

 

“What you two got in mind?” Bobby asked. Dean winked. He went into Bobby's study with a satchel of his. Setting up a bronze bowl on a white cloth he got some charcoal started for incense. Then he started mixed the blend up in another bronze bowl. He got out holy water and the three blessed themselves before starting. “Who are you calling?”

 

“Adam.” Dean said quietly.

 

“Are you nuts, he's like the vessel of the archangel next to God.”

 

“Precisely why I'm calling him.” Dean told them. He then dumped the incense in the bowl and making a cross over it he prayed. “Sáncte Míchael Archángele, defénde nos in proélio, cóntra nequítiam et insídias diáboli ésto præsídium. Ímperet ílli Déus, súpplices deprecámur: tuque, prínceps milítiæ cæléstis, Sátanam aliósque spíritus malígnos, qui ad perditiónem animárum pervagántur in múndo, divína virtúte, in inférnum detrúde. Ámen” 

 

From the doorway there was a sarcastic voice that announced. “All you had to do was give me a shout out. I mean I'm flattered you went to all this trouble. But really.”

 

“You've been updated?” Sam asked.

 

“Oh yeah...this is one of the worst uglies to get loose and well Castiel is going to have to work hard to atone for this one.” Michael said looking around.

 

“Enough name throwing can you help us with this?” Dean asked.

 

“Of course, but I also need to help straighten out another situation. Sam are you ready to go home?” Michael asked.

 

“Can you?” Sam asked in return. Michael just raised an eyebrow and walked over placing two fingers to Sam's forehead. Sam glowed incandescently for a brief moment then the glow subsided and he looked around. “So when are you going to get started?” Sam asked curiously.

 

Michael's eyes widened in shock. “This isn't good.” 

 

“You think.” Bobby said looking over the happenings. “Should he be our Sam now?” 

 

“He should be but someone or something is holding the door shut on him.” Michael said.

 

“He is standing right here and he is getting a little miffed at being out of the loop. That little light show should've send me back to my time-line?” 

 

“Oh yeah.” Michael agreed. “I'm going to have to do some consulting on this one.” Michael said vanishing.

 

“That was anticlimatic.” Sam ventured then looked at Bobby, then Dean then at the house around him. Sam turned and walked over to the table where he, Bobby, and Joshua were sitting. The cups of coffee cold now. But that wasn't his intent. He reached and took all three glasses of leftover whiskey, lined them up and started throwing them back one by one. 

 

“Hey, I call foul on that!” Dean hollered. “He gets the alcohol and I don't!” 

 

“Get a beer!” Bobby groused and hurried over to Sam who gripped a chair back for a moment. He looked around.

 

“I'm me, but I'm not the me I'm supposed to be, I'm the me that ain't.” He started his voice taking on a drunken slur. 

 

“Sam for God's sake, snap out of it boy.” Bobby said worriedly. Dean came up and grabbed his brother spinning him to face him. 

 

“SAMMY! Chill bro!” Dean yelled.

 

Sam shoved his hands off him and staggering ran out the back door and out of the house. Dean, heedless of his sock clad feet ran out after him. Sam already had a good headstart on him but he saw the path he was taking, he was headed to the garage. Dean slowed his pace and carefully picked his way across the ground until he was in the garage with him. Sam was huddled in a far corner holding his head in his hands. His head jerked up as he heard Dean enter the building. 

 

“He's gonna find me here. He's going to find me and it's going to start up all over again.” Sam said tears making tracks down his cheeks. 

 

“Who? Who's gonna find you?” Dean asked.

 

“Lucifer. He's after me Dean, wants me back.” Sam's eyes were huge and scared. 

 

“What do we do?” Dean asked edging closer, then he carefully and slowly sat next to Sam on the concrete. 

 

“I don't have the strength to fight him Dean, not now, not after...”

 

“Will you shut the fuck up.” Dean blatted. “You're all worked up over a hallucination.” 

 

“You're not the one who had, past tense, a wall to keep that shit at bay.” Sam responded.

 

“We'll figure something out Sammy, I promise, I'm not giving you up without a helluva fight.” Dean said hugging Sam tightly. 

 

Suddenly Sam froze in Dean's grip, “Oh God he's coming Dean! I can hear him. He's laughing and coming for me.” Sam said in stark terror. Sam's eyes darted around the room as Dean fought to hold onto his larger baby brother. 

 

“Come on Sam, don't do this man, not now.” Dean begged. “Don't go checking out on me again!” 

 

Stiffening for a moment, Sam stared straight ahead and fell over in a faint. Dean, field trained by his dad checked the two major vitals on Sam, his breathing and his pulse. He was hyperventilating, but his pulse was strong. Carefully laying Sam on the floor, he grabbed a double handful of shop towels and made him a rudimentary pillow, then looking around saw a bag on the table. He leapt up and emptying the contents, ran with it and clamped the mouth of the bag over Sam's mouth and nose. The old trick seemed to work after a few minutes as his breathing evened out. Dean checked his eyes and his pupils were dilated but reactive to the light which was a good sign. Bobby came loping in shortly with a kit bag. He saw Dean cradling Sam's head and dropped the bag.

 

“Aw shit, how bad is it?” He grunted grabbing up his bag and walking over.

 

“He hyperventilated for starters. He's out of it right now. Bobby what's going on? I mean what Michael was talking about and what he's raving about is straight out of Star Trek or something!” Dean said looking steadily at Sam then to Bobby.

 

“I don't know, this is something new to me, I couldn't begin to explain it other than it's like that time you busted out my front window when Balthazar pitched you into that alternate reality.” Bobby chimed. 

 

Sam was slowly starting to come around and he seemed calmer now, more at peace. He looked up and saw Dean then over and saw Bobby and smiled. “Sorry about that guys. I'm tripping like hell.” 

 

“It's okay son, we just gotta see that you're put back together.” Bobby started as he knelt by Dean with a grunt. Sam tried to rise, Dean slapped an arm around his shoulders to help him up. Carefully he was pulled into a sitting position. A flurry of wind caught their attention and they looked towards the door to see Michael there.

 

“Well, did you find a way to fix the problem?” Dean asked.

 

“Working on it, for right now though this will have to do.” He said walking over and placing his palm flat on Sam's head. Sam jerked a moment and then relaxed.

 

“What'd you do?” Sam asked as Michael pulled back.

 

“Trying to restore that wall in your soul to prevent any more episodes from occurring.” 

 

Michael knelt and looked Sam over carefully. They checked his eyes until Sam got very uncomfortable and looked away. 

 

“Sorry, but I'm not used to being stared at like that.” Sam said apologetically.

 

“Don't worry about it. I was just delving your soul to see what other damage was done. It is apparently little.” Michael commented. “But still any damage is cause for concern. As it is I want you disturbed as little as possible until we get this sorted out.” Then he looked at Dean. “I trust you can stay sober enough to watch over him?” 

 

Dean coloured under the archangel's gaze. “Yeah, that's not an issue. This is my lifeline, I'm not going to fuck this up.”

 

“See that you don't.” Michael warned. “A drink now and then won't hurt but you poisoned yourself. As it is I don't think you've done any irreparable damage to your shell. But it never hurts to check.” Michael said stretching out his hand and touching Dean in the center of his chest. Dean felt a warming glow for a moment that was almost sexual, then it was gone. “Lucky you, your system seems unimpaired by the amount of alcohol you consumed. 

 

“Uh excuse me guys. Bobby can you uh, can you take over for me for a sec?” Dean said squirming.

 

“Sure, what's wrong?” Bobby asked.

 

“I gotta pee,bad!” He said. Bobby moved over laughing and took his place holding Sam into a sitting posture as Dean walked outside and around the corner of the garage. 

 

“Don't worry, I prodded his liver to get rid of the toxins, urinating like this isn't going to be unusual for a while. You two are going to have to be off the road for a while. You'll probably need this.” He said reaching into his pocket and extracting a roll of bills. He passed them to Sam. 

 

“You don't have to do that.” Sam argued.

 

“Yes I do, I have no idea how long it's going to take to get this sorted out and you'll need the income to survive in the meantime.” Michael sighed and stood, “For now, no hunting, rest up and try to work this out of your system if you can.” 

 

Dean came back in the building zipping up his pants and looking relieved. “Damn, that's a load off my bladder. Okay what's the gameplan?” Dean asked.

 

“You are on vacation until we get this reality situation sorted out.” Michael said quietly. Then he stepped away. “I or one of my brothers or sisters will be getting in touch with you soon on this.” Then he was gone.

 

Dean shook his head a moment then noticed that Sam was trying to push up off the ground. Dean and Bobby helped him to stand, he wobbled but he was able to stand.

 

They carefully walked back up to the house, Once inside Dean pulled on his boots and tied them up, then looked at Bobby, “I need something to do.” 

 

“I don't have anything going on right now.” Bobby said helplessly. 

 

“Then I guess I'll have to go find a wreck to work on.” He said walking back out the door, his gaze pained. 

 

Sam looked after him a moment and then shook himself staring at the ceiling for a moment as he stretched. “Fine, I was to start research on alternative realities or parallel universes.”

 

“Sam, I don't have to tell you, but your probably gonna be wasting your time on that.” Bobby said concerned.

 

“Bobby, I gotta try, my brain is pulling in two directions and if I don't find an answer soon, I'm going to take a dive off the deep end with no water in the pool.” Sam told him. In a rare gesture Bobby came over and grabbed him by the shoulders and hugged him.

 

“Let's get to it.” He said pulling away with an embarrassed grin. “If you got the stones to dig on this, I'm right there with you.”

 

Thus the next two weeks seemed to drag by with Dean busy restoring a wrecked Ford Fairlane that he saw was in decent shape for him to work on. Sam and Bobby continued searching in their spare time and handling the running of the daily affairs of Bobby's phone lines. Bobby got with Sam early on and got him a moniker to run with on the phone lines which took a lot of stress off Bobby and actually gave him a tremendous break which he'd needed. It was into the third week that Dean had finished work on the Fairlane, a 1970 model. He was just pulling the tape and paper from where he'd taped up for a paint job. It was back to it's original blue exterior with black upholstery and running like a top. Bobby took it to auction that Saturday and Dean was pleased when the bidding stopped at $6790. He and Bobby split the proceeds on that and all was good.

 

All of that found Dean wandering the lot looking for another wreck to restore when his cell buzzed, it was Sam. 

 

“Yeah what's up?” Dean asked.

 

“Anna's here.” Sam told him.

 

“On my way.” Dean said hanging up and starting at a fast jog back towards the house.


	5. Chapter 5

In the living room Sam was sitting on the couch looking dumbstruck when Dean walked in. Dean looked at Sam for a moment then accusingly at Anna. “What's going on?” Dean asked cautiously.

 

“There may be a way to reconnect or split me up into me and me.” Sam started.

 

“I said there was a chance, Auriel, Cassiel and Raphael aren't even certain on this, that's two regular legion angel's captains and an archangel that's working on this. Sam what's happening to you has never occurred before, we just don't know what we're dealing with and we are proceeding with great trepidation.” Anna said staring hard at Sam. Then she looked to Dean. “There is a sigil that's been uncovered in the Father's library, it's Enochian and thus impossible for us to reproduce. Only the Father can do that.”

 

“And he's still on hiatus?” Dean asked.

 

“Well, we have an idea where he is it's just a matter of us tracking him down.” Anna hedged.

 

“Then why not let us do the looking for you?” Dean asked itching to be doing something he considered much more productive that just restoring cars.

 

“Because you have a history with his vessel, and for you to meet him right now, would cement Sam into this time stream. At least that's what we are thinking. We can't afford that.” 

 

“Okay, I'll rephrase my question.” Dean said stubbornly. “Why not let ME do some looking for you?” 

 

“That was going to be my proposition. You and I team up and go on a hunt.” Anna said.

 

“Can you handle working with a human that long?” Dean asked. Bobby shot him a look but he ignored it. 

 

“If I can put up with you, I can pretty much put up with anything.” She sniped.

 

“Oh this is going to be a peachy partnership.” Sam retorted.

 

Anna shook her head, “Normally I would go on my own, but Dean, your skills might actually come in handy, because quite frankly God is not wanting to be found yet.”

 

Dean took a deep breath and blew it out, “And what if we approach him and he still doesn't want to be found?” 

 

“We'll just have to deal with that when it happens. As it is your first clue on this hunt is finding out where Chuck Shurley is.” Anna told him. “He's no longer in his former residence.

 

“Which means he could be about anywhere.” Bobby snorted. “Not a very good lead to start with.” 

 

“We have his publisher's name who is still paying him.” Anna said pulling a card from her jeans pocket and passing it to Sam.

 

“Bantam actually picked him up! Shit. That's a stretch from TOR.” Sam noted. “Okay, we got the number so I'll call.”

 

After a moment Sam's cell phone rang through to the 800 number. “You have reached the offices of Bantam Publishing. To continue in English please press one.”

 

Sam didn't wait for the Spanish and immediately pressed the one then he pressed the zero four times. 

 

“Please hold for the next available operator.” The computer voice said.

 

After a long moment the line did pick up. “Thank you for calling Bantam Publishing how may I direct your call?” The operator's voice asked.

 

“Stan Lee, Marvel Comics Division, I'd like to speak to the agent in charge of publishing the Supernatural series by Chuck Shurley.” Sam said making his voice hoarse and scratchy.

 

“Mr. Lee!! One moment please I'll ring you through.” The receptionist said impressed.

 

Sam grinned at Dean, a “you're not the only one who can shuck and jive a person” look on his face. After a moment the line picked up an a ladies voice came on the line.

 

“Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, sure you are, why are you calling on the 800 number then, you got our direct line in?” She asked.

 

“I called the 800 number because it I can remember and I dropped my iPhone so it's in the shop, as a fricking result I don't have your direct calling number available and this can't wait, now do I need to waste more time or do I wait until I get back to my offices and call the managing editor?” Sam said quite put out.

 

“Sorry Mr. Lee, we just have some protocol to follow and we get some strange calls in here from time to time.” She said apologetically.

 

“No problem, look I want to talk with Shurley about doing an animated series here in the US based on his novels. Do you have a number I can use to get in touch with him by?”

 

“Give me your number Mr. Lee and I'll have him call you back.” The receptionist said still a bit cautious.

 

“Great, 919-555-8432. I need to hear from him ASAP. I want to pitch this to the production staff this month.”

 

“No problem with that sir, I'll have him call you immediately.” She replied still a bit skeptical.

 

“Fine, thanks.” He hung up. Then turned to the others with a grin. “Now we wait.”

 

“While she backtracks the cell phone you're holding to find out...”

 

“That it's actually registered to Stan Lee. You know I never register with my real name, you taught me that.” Sam said accusingly.

 

“Sorry, this is just so fucked up.” 

 

“Dean! Language.” Bobby started. 

 

Anna held up her hand to him. “Don't worry, I've heard a lot worse and I don't offend that easily.”

 

They waited for about three hours and was going to give up as it was going on 6:00 when Sam's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, “unknown.” 

 

“Hello, Stan Lee.”

 

“Stan, Chuck Shurley here, what can I do for you sir?” He asked.

 

“I want to create an animated series of paperbacks from the novels, I needed to talk with the creator to get some ideas and information.”

 

“SURE! Are you in California right now?” He asked.

 

“San Diego.” Sam lied.

 

“Great, I'm up in Santa Rosa just above San Francisco. Maybe we can get together on this?”

 

“I would appreciate that, I can be at your place in three days, I've got a deal on the books I gotta close right now, but I'd like to touch base with you on this and get you on board with this deal.” Sam growled.

 

“Wonderful! I'm at 647 S. Pico Boulevard, Suite 916.” 

 

“Super, It's Saturday now, I'm going to pitch the new X-Men series this afternoon to the studios, so I can be there, Wednesday?” Sam asked.

 

“Sounds great Stan, I look forward to meeting you.” Chuck said happily.

 

“Sounds great to me as well, see you then.” Sam said hanging up. He looked at Anna who was scowling disapprovingly. “It's all in the approach. Here's the address.” He offered Dean a scrap that he wrote on. “Wednesday.” Sam said flatly.

 

“Okay so we got a few days, that's better than nothing.” Dean said. Anna nodded and disappeared.

 

“I think I can hold out.” Sam said quietly. Dean couldn't say anything to argue or oppose the statement, he was still wrapping his head around the possibility presented in Sam's moments of breaking down. 

 

So they held on for the requisite four days during which time Sam was incoherent for at least one full day. A period which Dean was certifiably certain he could do without repeat performances. Tuesday came around and Anna appeared at the breakfast table dressed fashionably in professional attire. She waited impatiently as Dean got dressed into his suit. Finally they were standing together in the living room waiting for some unspoken signal.

 

“Are you ready to do this?” He asked finally.

 

“Just waiting on you, slowpoke.” She chided. She grabbed him by the arm and they vanished. Bobby gaped and Sam stared for a moment and then laughed.

 

“He is going to be so pissed at her for that!” Sam said when he could finally catch his breath. 

 

“Well come on there's work to do even while they're gone.” Bobby said critically eying the floorspace that the two had occupied. 

 

A second after the departure they appeared in a side alleyway to the building at 675 Pico Boulevard. And predictably Dean was pissed off but said nothing, he let his scowl speak volumes. They walked up to the front door where a concierge waited in the lobby. 

 

“We're here to see Chuck Shurley, we were told suite 916?” Dean said politely.

 

The concierge a perky young man keyed in the information and nodded, “If you'll take the south elevator over there it will put you out closest to his suite. Who shall I say is coming?”

 

“Representatives for Stan Lee and Marvel Comics Incorporated.” Dean deadpanned. The concierge was suddenly pop-eyed and quickly dialed ahead as they boarded the elevator. 

 

The car doors opened on the 9th floor and they quickly made their way to room 916. Only to find the door ajar. Dean looked up and down the hall. He saw a fire exit rather close with the door just closing. 

 

“Check the room, I'm him!” Dean said bolting. He was through the door in a flash but was two floors above the fleeing male figure. “Chuck hold up man, it's me!” 

 

“Who the hell is me?” Chuck yelled back up then saw Dean's face, “Oh shit.” he redoubled his efforts on the stairs. Dean could hear him trip at one point and was expecting to find him face down on a landing. Instead he was blocked by Anna. 

 

“Whatever it is, I didn't do it!” He yelled at Dean. 

 

“Come on Chuck, we just want to talk to you that's all, I promise.” Dean said persuasively.

 

“Just talk? No funny business?” He asked.

 

“No, like I said, we just want to talk to you.” and in a wink they were back on the 9th Floor in Chuck's apartment.

 

“Will you stop doing that?” Dean yelped.

 

“I find that it's more expedient than just walking sometimes.” Anna said. 

 

Chuck nervously took a seat in an easy chair in the lounge area while Dean and Anna sat down on a sofa. 

 

“We know you haven't been writing much about Sam and I lately. At least we haven't heard of any books hitting the shelves.”

 

“It's been quiet.” Chuck agreed.

 

“Even with the leviathans?” Anna asked.

 

Chuck blanched. “Ok so I'm working on that one. So far it's the most difficult one to write.” 

 

“Why is that?” Dean asked.

 

“Because I'm looking and seeing multiple conclusions and they are all screwed up because of what had happened to Sam.” Chuck replied.

 

“So you do know about his problem?” Anna said.

 

“Know about it, oh yeah, he's totally screwed for right now. And before you start there's no spell I can give you that will undo what's been done. It'll correct itself in time.” He said cryptically.

 

Anna looked at him like a snake sizing up a mouse for dinner. “We've heard of a certain sigil that only God knows about, a sigil that might be able to help him.”

 

Chuck looked around nervously and saw there was no escape visible. “So why come to me, you're an angel, you can put in a request to God can't you?” 

 

“We could if he were taking calls right now?” Anna said pitching her point.

 

“You've lost track of him?” Chuck asked agape. 

 

“Not really there are some of us who suspect where he has been all along.” Anna answered.

 

Dean watched them spar for a moment before looking at Chuck. “Look let's drop the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter.” He blared impatiently, “You know which sigil we are looking for don't you?” 

 

“Dean...” Anna warned. Dean held up his hand.

 

“I might...” Chuck admitted slowly. “I mean I've heard rumours.”

 

“I suspect that you know more than rumours don't you...God.” Dean said with some finality.

 

“Dean!” Anna yelped.

 

Chuck waved his hand at her. “Don't worry, I get that from others as well. Dean I'm just a prophet, a poor one, but only that. I get to see things happen and write about them.”

 

Dean nodded quietly. “Okay, I'll go with that for now Chuck,” He said the name with emphasis, “So you might have the inside skinny on this sigil?” 

 

“I saw one in a dream a couple of nights ago, I never really thought about it much but I saw it again last night.” He said excited now as he ran into his office and grabbed a sheet of paper from his printer. 

 

“You got better digs that the last place you were in.” Dean noted. 

 

“Yeah I decided to put some of the money I got from the books to use and I like the security here. Or at least I did.” He said sourly as he came back into the room. He sat down across from them and drew a series of circles, triangles and stars in a formation. “This is what I saw.” 

 

“What is it?” Dean asked.

 

Anna studied it for a moment in silence and then looked up from hooded eyes shaking her head. “This isn't what you saw is it?” She challenged.

 

Suddenly Chuck was looking nervous again. “I'm afraid to draw it on paper.” 

 

Anna took the paper, flipping it to the other side and took the pen from him. “Describe it, I'll draw.”

 

So they spent the next ten minutes and three more sheets of paper getting the sigil right. When they were through they had something that Dean recognized almost immediately.

 

“It looks like the Greater Seal of Solomon.” He started, “But there's some added script here, and here that I'm not familiar with.” 

 

Anna looked at the sigil a moment and shivered passing the sheet quickly to Dean.

 

“Put that up quickly.” She said. 

 

He took the sheet of paper and folded it carefully and put it in his shirt pocket. “What was that all about.”

 

“It was an Enochian symbol, very powerful. Too powerful for me to touch and I don't want to.” Anna said.

 

“Then it is important!?” Chuck said excited again. He looked at them a moment and went back into his office. He came back out several minutes later with a book in plain leather binding. It wasn't huge, but it looked to have weight for its size.

 

“Before he went batshit crazy on me, Zachariah gave me this. He said it would be important one day.” He sat the book on the cocktail table between them. Dean leaned forward and carefully opened the book and noted that Anna was paler than normal and was cringing from the book.

 

“That's a lot of power he entrusted you with. Why?” Anna asked as Dean closed the book. 

 

“He just said it would be important, I don't think he even knew why, but he was anxious to be rid of it, I can tell you that right now.” 

 

Dean sighed, “Okay we got a sigil you dreamed up, and a book of power that Zac just passed off. Something doesn't jive.” Dean said. 

 

“I think the book has information on the sigil.” Chuck replied. 

 

“How much do you want for the book?” Dean asked weighing it in his hands. 

 

Chuck paled, “Take it with you with my blessing, I just want it gone.” 

 

“Why?” Dean asked suspiciously.

 

“Zachariah was a prick and pretty much destroyed my life for a while. As far as I'm concerned, anything connected to him is poison.” Chuck said pushing the book at Dean. 

 

Dean and Anna got up to leave. Chuck stood and looked at them miserably. “Please don't come looking for me again. Please.” He begged. 

 

In the hallway Anna took a quick look around and in a moment they were back in Bobby's living room. Dean scowling but trying to grow accustomed to the transfers. 

 

“What's that you got?” Bobby asked. Dean passed him the book and opening it he scanned a few of the pages. “Shit, some of this predates Christianity by a few thousand years, near as I can guess.” 

 

Sam looked up interestedly. “Did you get anything useful. Dean tossed him the folded sheet of paper. Sam unfolded it and looked intently at the symbology for a several moments. Finally he looked back to Dean and Anna. 

 

“This was all we got?” Sam asked trying to hide his disappointment.

 

“That, the book, and Chuck's word that you would go back to normal in due time.” Dean told him.

 

“And Dean what you did in that office was close to sacrilege.” Anna noted.

 

“What calling Chuck, God?” Dean asked. Getting a nod from Anna and curious looks from Sam and Bobby, Dean spoke. “Look, he's a know-it-all, he sees things that come to pass, he's made some pretty powerful predictions, and he also doesn't want to be found.” Sam shrugged. 

 

“Could be he just honestly wants to be left alone.” Sam offered.

 

“I don't think so, I think it goes way deeper than that. There's just...oh hell it's probably just my mind playing tricks on me, but there you go.” Dean said finally.

 

They sat back as Sam passed the sheet of paper to Bobby who was scanning the book. It was over three inches thick with parchment pages the seemed as crisp and neat as if it just came off the press. He eyed it critically for a minute and then nodded, “I'll get what I need out of this then this gets treated like the rest of my collection. Copied and put in a secure location.” 

 

Dean nodded as did Sam, Anna watched them all for a long moment. “I need to report in on what we have discovered. Undoubtedly some others will want to take a look at that book.” 

 

“We can deal with that. But the book does not leave our keeping period.” Sam said firmly. 

 

Anna nodded and with that she was gone. Dean looked at Bobby, “a shot please.” He asked. Bobby eyed him warily. “Just a shot, that's all.” He said.

 

Bobby came back with a glass containing the equivalent of about a shot of whiskey. Dean sipped at it carefully, savouring the flavour and texture for a change. Then he looked at Sam. “You had to have been there man, when I called Chuck, God, he flinched like I beat him. I seriously think that's the meat suit he's hiding out in.”

 

“But why be scared, he's God all-freaking-mighty! He can wrap us around his little finger it he chooses.

 

“That's just it. He obviously doesn't want to be found yet, he's on some personal mission and can't afford the distractions. So he took on Chuck for now and won't let go.” Dean answered.

 

“How you doing? For real?” Dean asked.

 

“Tired all the time, strung out, hell working the phones and searching the net for other hunters has been the only thing that's kept me sane. Then when it's late at night...” He stopped embarrassed.

 

“What, when it's late at night what?” Dean asked.

 

“That's when I wish we shared a bed like we did as kids.” He said hating the admission. “I know, I'm not a kid anymore, I'm an overgrown adult who should be able to take care of himself.” Sam cleared his throat. “But sometimes, it's awfully hard.”

 

“Take the bedroom across the hall, yeah you'll have to walk a bit to the bathroom, but it's bigger with a full sized bed.” Bobby offered.

 

“Don't you think that's a little queer?” Dean asked then heard Sam cough. 

 

“Nope, you two need each other right now, ain't nothing queer about that. Even if there was something going on between you two...” 

 

“Which there's not!” Dean interrupted desperately.

 

“Like I said, if there was something going on, it's your business not mine. As long as it's not paraded in front of me all the time, I don't give a shit. The main thing is your sanity, Sam.” Bobby said. 

 

Sam looked at Dean a moment, then Dean returned the look. After a moment they nodded, and Sam seemed visibly relieved. 

 

“Dean, trust me, it's not like I don't think your stud material, but honestly I just don't feel that urge to splurge with you.” Sam said with a grin.

 

“Good, cause I'm liable to deck your ass.” Dean said. 

 

Sam threw an arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “Don't you just love it when he's being all macho.”

 

“Now you're starting to freak me out.” Bobby said guardedly. Then Sam became all serious. 

 

“Dean, I was just messing with you when I said that. But, well, I miss the times like when we were kids.” Sam said sadly.

 

“I think we can arrange something.” Dean said seriously.


	6. Chapter 6

There was silence in the room for a minute then Sam shifted on the couch. “I'm scared. I know that sounds childish, but I am, I'm just plain scared. I know that Michael tried to put a wall up and it's working pretty good. But I still sometimes see shadows out of the corner of my line of vision. Or I might hear something that's probably nothing more than the house settling. Dean,” Dean could hear the shame thick in his voice. “You're the only reason I can sleep with the light off. I'll hear you in the other bed and” Sam coughed, “I know I'm safe.”

 

Dean looked more than a trifle embarrassed. “I never thought I'd be your security blanket.” He said trying to lighten the mood a little.

 

“You are. You make everything easier for me when your around. But I know I got to get used to you not being right by my side. That was one reason I was glad that you had that car to work on, it gave me and Bobby something to do, and well, I'll admit Bobby, I uh, feel safe around you as well.”

 

“Aw shut up.” Bobby said gruffly. “Ain't nothin' special about me.” He said though not displeased. 

 

“There's more to you than you take credit for.” Sam admitted.

 

Dean stood up on that note and headed to the kitchen. “I need a beer to thin out the estrogen a bit.” Bobby laughed roughly and even Sam smiled. 

 

“Make that two more while you're over there.” Bobby called. Dean came back in a few minutes later with three bottles of beer. “Well at least now we know one way to kill those leviathans or at least contain them.” Bobby notioned.

 

They spent the rest of the evening planning strategy and working out what they were going to do for the next however, how long. Dean had a count on that wad that Michael gave him and while it was several thousand dollars, plus the money he got from the car auction. He knew it wouldn't last forever and they just didn't know how long they were going to be pinned down like this. 

 

Then midnight came and they trundled off to bed. Dean and Sam moving into the bedroom across the hall from where they were sleeping. The request totally unspoken. 

 

“Dean you don't have to...I'm a big boy.” Sam said as Dean was already stripping down for bed. 

 

“Shut up and get ready for bed.” Dean said brusquely. 

 

They finally are down to their boxers as they crawl under the blankets. Sam rolls facing away from Dean somewhat mortified. Dean starts to roll away when he feels a hand come across his hip. He reaches and takes the hand for a moment and then hears a sigh.

 

“If this is all I can get I'll be happy with that.” Dean thinks he hears Sam say even though his brother says nothing. Dean rolls over facing Sam's back. He throws an arm across his chest and marvels at the images of childhood this evokes. He inhales and gets the scent of Sam again after 20 years, and somehow everything is all right now. He settles in to sleep as well.

 

The next morning was slightly embarrassing as Dean woke, facing the opposite direction with Sam practically draped over him with his morning wood prodding his ass through the boxers. Dean feels the macho walls come up but then again considers that this is probably the first real nights sleep his brother had got in some time ignores or tries to ignore it. Pretty soon he hears Sam snorting and shifting then a stifled, “Oh my God!” Dean reaches up and grabs his arm as he tries to pull away. 

 

“It's okay, you were tired.” Dean said in a soft voice. Sam relaxed a bit. “But you are throwing some serious wood there, slugger.” He felt his brother stiffen and really start to pull away. Dean laughed and rolled onto his back looking over at Sam. “Like I said it's okay, it's not the first time I've had my ass prodded, it sure as hell won't be the last.” 

 

“What are you talking about?” Sam was asking as Dean stretched and sat up. He looked at Sam with frank amazement. “Did you think I made all my money from hustling pool?”

 

“Aw man TMI! Seriously, you didn't!” Sam said. 

 

“Seriously I did. Remember back when you were 14, I guess it was, you had pneumonia, pretty bad case and we could get you into a hospital so we had to do the best we could with the local clinic?” 

 

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam said sitting up and pulling on his jeans. “You didn't?!”

 

“I hustled pool, my ass, my dick and my mouth, no necessarily in that order so I could get you the antibiotics. Remember now? Dad was on that hunt that went into nearly a month of him being away.” Dean supplied.

 

“Oh man, just ramp up my guilt level will ya.” Sam said. 

 

“It was all that bad, I picked and chose carefully.” Dean said laughing as he pulled on his jeans and shirt.

 

Sam was pulling on his boots when he spoke again. “As long as we're coming clean about major embarrassing situations. I didn't hustle in college but I did have a boyfriend before Jesse came along.”

 

“Not my baby brother!” Dean said pulling on his boots and pulling up the laces. 

 

“Yeah, your baby brother, but he was cool, we were together about a year when I met Jesse, she came in with us to share rent at that place on Hemlock St. where you found me, remember? Anyway, he came in one night when I was getting ready to shower, Jesse was coming out of the bathroom, and we collided, she looked up and kissed me on the cheek. Just a kiss on the cheek and Tommy came unglued. He was convinced that we were secretly fucking around on the side. Wouldn't listen to my side.”

 

“What a dick!” Dean said tying the laces.

 

“Yeah, he was cool with everything else, but he had an insecurity problem a mile wide. I was actually glad to be over him. Then me and Jesse hooked up and well, the rest is history.” 

 

Dean having finished dressing was pulling up the bed covers halfway making the bed then he leaned on the mattress and looked at the back of his brothers head. “You ever think about hooking up like that again.” He could tell by the flash of red on his brothers neck that he was probably thinking the same thing. 

 

“Uh, not lately. Can we change the subject now, I think this horse is beat to death.” Sam said.

 

“Sure. Just so long as you don't turn on to me.” 

 

“Why, the way you were talking, you'd probably dig it.” Sam laughed as he turned.

 

“Incest is best.” Dean said with a wink. Then laughing uproariously he left the bedroom for the bathroom at the end of the hall.

 

Sam shook his head wonderingly and headed across the hall to their old bedroom to use the bathroom there. Five minutes later they were both downstairs fixing breakfast when Bobby came in. He looked around at the activity then poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. 

 

“You boys must've slept well.” He noticed.

 

“Like a log.” Sam said with a grin. 

 

“Not too bad.” Dean agreed.

 

“See you can do something together other than get shot at.” Bobby said with a chuckle. Then he became serious. “Sam, how you holding together son?” 

 

“Better than I got a right too.” Sam replied. “I've got headaches that come and go, but thank God I'm not seeing Lucifer out of the corner of my eyes right now.” 

 

“Yeah I guess that was tough.” Bobby said.

 

Sam brought the plates over and they all sat down to breakfast, “So what's the gameplan?” Dean asked Sam.

 

Sam shrugged, “I don't know how long I'm going to be like this, I may as well do something useful.”

 

“That sounds like getting a job talk to me.” Bobby said quietly.

 

“Yeah, I'm going over to the university and see if they got a place for a tutor. I mean, my brain's not completely fried.” Sam noted.

 

Dean nodded, “Got some more cars for me to work on?” He asked Bobby.

 

“Shit boy! Just look out the back door, there's a whole yard of them to choose from.” Bobby said.

 

“Yeah I saw a hot little Volvo over in one side that could be put back together with a little cost.” Dean admitted.

 

“Just how long do you expect to have to live like this though?” Bobby asked curiously.

 

“I don't know. I hope less than a week, but I'm not going to start throwing bets around.” Sam said. Then he looked down at his plate a second his thoughts running in various directions. “I could stay here with you and man the phones and stuff.” 

 

“Only if you wanted to, otherwise we just run into each others way.” 

 

“Are we crowding you?” Sam asked.

 

“The hell! Where'd that come from? Of course you're not crowding me. I was just worried that you might be stuck like this for months. If that's the case we're gonna have to make plans.” Bobby said. “There's nothing to keep you two from doing short hunts.” 

 

“Good point.” Dean noted.

 

“I'll think about that.” Sam said finishing his plate. He took it over to the sink and then nodded to the back door, “Gonna go for a walk.” 

 

Dean and Bobby nodded and let him go quietly. As the screen door clapped shut the two exchanged a look and Dean just shrugged. Getting up to refill their coffee cups. 

 

Out in the yard Sam took his time and just walked around the piles of cars. He rounded one corner to see a shadow fleeting out of the corner of his peripheral vision. He disregarded that and continued to walk around just enjoying the morning when the shadow flit again. He froze concentrating his vision so that his peripheral was maximized. Another flitting shadow. Now he was getting nervous and he started out of the maze of cars and started back towards the house. 

 

He managed to turn one corner and came face to face with Lucifer, standing clamly in the center of the path.

 

“What do you want?” Sam asked brusquely.

 

“For you to quit denying the truth.” He said.

 

“There's a lot of truth's out there, which one are you talking about?” Sam stated flatly, reaching into his pocket. 

 

“That this reality is really fictional. You're trapped in another dimension and guess what, I hold the key.”

 

“You hold shit.” Sam's hand came out of his pocket as he flung salt at the image. It shimmered and disappeared. He started walking faster to get back to the safety of the house. He didn't see Lucifer again but once was too many times. He came in the back door to see Bobby and Dean busy cleaning up the kitchen and putting away dishes. Dean took one look at him and knew something was far wrong.

 

“What's the matter?” Dean said straight out of the gate.

 

“I saw him in the yard.” 

 

“Aw shit.” Bobby groaned, “Ok here's the gameplan, screw your idea of going to the university, we're going to be diving into that book of Shurley's and I'm going to pick apart as much as I can about the sigil you were given.” Bobby said.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Dean asked suddenly stumped.

 

“Stay out of the way.” Bobby said. 

 

“Fine, cars are waiting.” Dean grumped.

 

“Good, that'll keep your hands busy while junior and I do some bookworm stuff.” Bobby noted.

 

Bobby and Sam immediately started for the study while Dean stomped out of the back door. Sam looked around for a moment wanting to call him back but knew that right now he was feeling kind of like Sam. Stuck with no way out.

 

It was into the fourth day of looking and studying that they finally found a near match up to the sigil they were given. The drawing in the book as a just a tiny bit different but they were after all going on a drawing that was doing by Chuck Shurley, in a rush, under conditions. So marking that one they continued on pouring over the book but finding no other sigils that matched or came even close. Bobby turned back to the sigil he did find and looked over the writing that went with it. Sam was well rested now that he and Dean were sharing a bed, he'd had only two other such experiences such as the one he'd had in the yard. 

 

“The markings all line up so I'm more likely to go with the one in the book. The ingredients are simple enough to gather, it's not lunar or time specific. We can do this anytime.” Bobby said looking it over. 

 

“Let's set this up.” Sam said. They called in Dean and together they cleared the desk off in the study, laid salt lines, got the ingredients together. 

 

“Do you even know what you're doing?” Michael asked from the doorway. 

 

“This is a joining ritual it sends the spirit to where it's supposed to be.” Sam said looking over the book. 

 

“We doing this Mike. We gotta try something.” Dean said as he mixed the bowl of items for a moment. Then the charcoal in the brazier being at their hottest he started to pour the ingredients onto them when Sam stopped him. 

 

“You realize if this works you're going to have 'your' Sam back. I'll be gone.” Sam said. Dean looked at him closely. 

 

“You deserve to be where your are supposed to be.” Dean said pointedly.

 

“You might succeed after all.” Michael noted as he walked into the room. He looked over the sigil they'd chalked on a black tile and he nodded. “I recognize most of this, Bobby, do you need help with the Enochian language?” 

 

“It wouldn't hurt.” Bobby agreed. 

 

Michael took up a place next to Bobby and Dean set the bowl on the table and looked at Sam long and hard. 

 

“I'm gonna miss you.” He said softly. 

 

“Me too.” Sam replied then grabbed Dean in a hard hug. When they parted Dean picked up the bowl and poured it on the coals. Smoke filled the room as Michael started.

 

“Io ab athalana obseque wei intab onsono wei ab sontus mos regi ab logo itps abolotoah. Io Evohe ab Dei...” Michael continued to chant. 

 

“Dean!” Sam yelped as he felt a wrenching sensation and then passed out.

 

There was a long period of nothing for Sam, at least from his perspective, he slowly came around his head pounding from the experience. “What the hell?” He started then froze when he knew he spoke something but nothing came out. He woke to a steady beeping tone, and smells that were somewhat unpleasant to him, sterile. He could feel the crisp linens he was laying on and slowly he opened his eyes. 

 

Dean was standing over him, then he was grabbed up in a massive hug. He could hear Dean's sobs as he kept up the hug. He was in a room like a hospital room, with all kinds of apparatus around him. Dean finally pulled back and sat down in his chair next to the bed. He was touching Sam now and gripping his free hand and arm firmly. His hands were caressing his face, he was the closest he'd been to completely breaking down. He kissed Sam firmly on the forehead and pulled back reluctantly.

 

“I'm n-not g-g-g-going anywhere.” Sam whispered weakly.

 

“Dean, how's he doing today?” A voice from the doorway said. Sam painfully turned his head and saw Bobby standing there. Bobby's mouth fell open and tears started up in his eyes as he approached the bed. 

 

“Wha-what's the m--matter? Ha-ha-have I b-b-b-een out that l--ong?” Sam whispered desperately.

 

“Sam, you can hear me okay?” Dean said in easy tones.

 

“S-sure.” Sam said nervously.

 

“You've been out for over four months.” Dean said tearfully. “Where's the goddamned nurses?” Dean started. 

 

In moments there was a flurry of activity as a man whom Sam took to be a doctor was checking his reaction to light and stimulus, after several minutes of this dizzying activity they told Dean and Bobby not to keep him awake too long he was still recovering. Dean practically kicked them out of the room in his excitement. He wiped anxiously at his face but the tears kept coming.

 

“I d-d-don't un-under—stand.” Sam said.

 

“We were on our way back here to Sioux Falls when you blacked out on me. We didn't wreck the car you ran us into a ditch. I was passed out drunk. State trooper came along and called it in, we were taken to the local hospital. They ran all kinds of tests on you to find out something. Then they decided they'd done all they could and left you on life support. I finally got straightened out enough to be constantly conscious so I had you moved here.” Dean blurted.

 

“Wh-where's h-h-here?” Sam asked looking around slowly.

 

“Brookview nursing home. That was the best we could do considering. We could have bunked you up at Bobby's but the chance that something might come up that we couldn't handle was too big. It's a nice place and the staff actually give a fuck.” Dean said trying to regain control.

 

“B-but h-h-how, m-m-money?” Sam asked anxiously.

 

“You're on my insurance dumbass.” Bobby said wiping at his face as well. “The rest was made up for by Michael, and Dean's been working in the yard restoring and selling cars. You're actually sitting on a little profit for a change.” Bobby told him.

 

Sam was awestruck, “Th-then I'm r---eally home?” Sam asked his tears starting now. “D-d-dean dry?”

 

“Oh that, well, mostly, I don't drink near as much as I did.” Dean admitted. “It was rough for a few weeks. But things got better. Bobby kicked my ass, drying me out. Now, I work all day, come over here and spend the evening with you and then get up from here and go back into working.” Dean said shrugging.

 

“S-sorry to b-be a p-p-p-pain.” Sam stammered through his own tears.

 

Bobby was immediately at the bedside, “You weren't a pain ya idjit. You're took care of.”

 

“L-love you too, B-b-bobby.” Sam said with a grin through his tears. He swallowed hard, seeing this Dean got some water in a cup for him. He sipped gingerly, his throat hydrating and his cognition becoming clearer. He closed his eyes a moment.

 

“Good he's going to get some sleep.” Dean said relieved. 

 

“D-don't c-count on it.” Sam stammered with his eyes closed. Dean got a tissue and wiped his face down. He lay there just starring at them for several minutes when there was a knock at the door, it was a doctor with two nurses. 

 

“Dr. Thomas, glad to see ya. Sam this is Dr. Bill Thomas, he's been treating what he could of you.”

 

“Well, you're looking remarkably well for someone who's been in a coma for 4 months.” He said with a jolly laugh.

 

“G-g-good g-genetics.” Sam shot back surprising the doctor. Sam rolled his eyes and knew that the examination was about to begin. He was back, he was safe, but somewhere deep down there was a part of him grieving for what he lost and he had hopes of retrieving. Dean started to move away from the bed to give the doc room when Sam reached for him feebly.

 

“Hey bro, Sammy, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere.” Dean said taking a moment to pull his game face back together. Sam still reached out for him his pulse shooting up. Dean went to the opposite side of the bed and stood there with his hand on Sam's arm, carefully avoiding the IV needle. Sam smiled weakly. Sam gripped his hand firmly. Bobby joined them and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. 

 

“Well, you're heart rates fine of course, blood oxygen good, I'm going to schedule you for a CT scan all the same. I'd rather be safe than sorry in a case like this. But this is one of a few miracles I've seen and glad to have seen it happen.” Doc. Thomas said as he stepped away from the bed he turned to the nurses giving out orders and writing on a chart. Then he turned back to Sam. “Sam, you're going to want to stay awake, grasp this reality you're finally back in after being in that coma, but you've got to sleep as well. You and yours enjoy the reunion for a while but I mean it when I say get some sleep.” 

 

“No problems doc, we'll make sure of that.” Dean responded as he held on to Sam's hand. 

 

“I'll go make arrangements for that scan now. Rest up son.” Thomas said with a smile. Then he and the nurses left the room. 

 

Dean lowered the bed rail on the side where he was standing and with some help shifted Sam over in the bed making room for Dean to sit down. Bobby stood at the head of the bed and for a while they were at peace, for a once in a long time, they were at peace.


End file.
